


Ivory #5

by Fairia



Series: An Unlikely Friendship [3]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chloe is Chloe, Gen, Oblivious Adrien Agreste, Teacher Nino
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 05:21:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12162372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fairia/pseuds/Fairia
Summary: Nino had no idea what he’d signed on for when he’d shaken Adrien’s hand that day.





	1. Trauma in B Flat

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read my August Fluff Challenge series, you're familiar with this story, as well as it's follow-up, Berry Lips and Cat Eyes. Since it was originally part of my Unlikely Friendship headverse, I'm posting it, as well as the follow-up, in the series.
> 
> Warnings: Occasional swearing - Nino has a potty mouth.

Adrien, the poor, homeschooled, social recluse that he was, had no concept of the Man Card. Thus, as his first and best man friend, it fell to Nino to teach him all the things he _should_ have known, had he not had the most bizarre anti-social upbringing known to teenage history.

Nino had no idea what he’d signed on for when he’d shaken Adrien’s hand that day.

The first time it had happened, Nino had been totally unprepared. Adrien had slouched in the door, stumbled into his seat, and dropped his head onto his arms.

“Dude, you okay?” Nino asked, concerned.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Adrien’s mouth split in a jaw-cracking yawn. “Late night. I just need to slap on my face, and I’ll be good.”

 _Slap on his…?_ Nino hadn’t had very long to contemplate what the hell Adrien meant, because said boy had already reached into his backpack and pulled out a small zippered pouch. Nino’s mind had just long enough to produce a disbelieving sound (which thankfully _didn’t_ exit his mouth) before Adrien pulled the zipper, turned the pouch upside down, and dumped freaking _makeup_ onto their desk.

“Dude?!” Nino yelped. Yelped, not _squeaked,_ because yelping was more manly. Squeaking was _not._

“What?” Adrien flipped open a small compact, reaching for an equally small tube of something flesh colored and unscrewing the lid.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Nino hissed. This went way beyond New Kid Syndrome! This was like… Alien Body Snatcher shit!

“Ummm...concealer?” Adrien blinked at him owlishly.

“Don’t- Don’t do that stuff _here.”_ Nino was appalled.

Adrien looked completely bewildered. “Why not? Should I go to the bathroom? There’s only a few minutes before class starts.”

“That’s _makeup.”_ Nino almost wailed it. “Put it _away.”_

Adrien’s eyebrows were crawling towards his hairline.

“Makeup is _girl stuff.”_ Nino hissed, trying to shove the various tubes and squares back into the little zippered black pouch, preferably _before_ anyone else noticed. Adrien, damn him, only leaned back, holding the the small, blue, inconspicuous _square of eternal shame_ high into the air and away from Nino’s grasping fingers. “Men _do not wear makeup._ Where is your _pride?”_

“My...What? Nino.” Adrien watched his friend quietly panic. “What the hell? It’s not _drugs.”_

“No, it’s _girl stuff.”_ Nino hissed. “No self-respecting man wears makeup...or if they do, they don’t let _other_ men know. You’re gonna lose your Man Card!”

“Nino.” Adrien said patiently. “I’ve been wearing makeup since I was five.”

“Wait, what?” Nino’s hands stilled in the middle of pulling the zipper shut. “That...what? I mean, I know most of the girls in our class probably wear makeup, but except Chloe, they didn’t start until they were like, thirteen.”

Adrien’s eyebrow winged upwards. “Model.”

“And they did that to you?” Nino wanted to cry on his friend’s behalf, but crying wasn’t manly, either.

“You act like they tortured me.” Adrien now sounded amused, damn him. “ _All_ models wear makeup, Nino. Literally, every single one.”

Nino had never really considered it. It made sense, but he’d never thought about it. Why would he? But in that moment, Nino’s world cracked, just a little.

“Okay.” Nino took a deep breath, resolutely zipped the bag closed, and pushed it under the desk. “Okay. Clearly it’s time for a Man Class.”

“A what?” Adrien’s expression was torn between disbelief and amusement.

“Man class.” Nino said sternly. “This is _life lessons,_ man. And if you want to retain your Man Card, _put that fucking compact away.”_

Said compact, held damningly in the air, dropped lower as Adrien’s elbow thumped onto the desk. Impatiently, Nino reached out, slapping Adrien’s hand down. At least now the compact was mostly out of sight of the _entire class._

“Okay.” Nino inhaled, trying to marshal his thoughts. “First, I don’t know what model world you grew up in, but in the real world, men do not wear makeup. And if they do, they don’t let other men know they’re wearing it. And the sure as hell do not apply it in class. You start slapping that shit on here, and you are never going to hear the end of it. It will follow you.”

“Really?” Adrien cocked his head inquisitively.

“Really.” Nino nodded seriously. “Kim is the loudest loudmouth there is, and he loves to push buttons. If he thinks it will embarrass you, he’ll rub it so far in your face that your nose will scrape off.”

“But it doesn’t embarrass me.” Adrien said in amusement.

“Yeah, because you grew up in model world. Seriously, did you _never_ attend school? Hang out with other boys who weren’t also wearing makeup and shaking their hips on the catwalk?”

Adrien’s lips quirked. “I do not shake my hips. Promise.”

“Your education has been sadly neglected.” Nino said solemnly. “I don’t care how many lessons you took.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really.” Nino said primly. “When you’re older, maybe you can swing applying concealer in the bathroom without shame. Now? You’re a teenager. There will be shaming. There will be teasing. Your Man Card will be taken away, and no girl is gonna want to date you.”

“Is this Man Card a real thing?” Adrien still looked amused. “Because I’ve never heard of it.”

“And that’s why I’m _informing you.”_ Nino scolded. “Because your Public Knowledge 101 class was never in session, apparently. This is sandbox shit man. I mean, really, did your dad _never_ let you play with other kids?”

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “Just Chloe, really.”

Nino dropped his face into his hands mournfully. “That explains so much.”

As if on cue, the door to the classroom slammed open, and the devil herself flounced through, followed closely by her faithful lackey. Gum snapped as she rifled through her bag, dropping into her seat with a noise of annoyance. Lips pursed angrily, Chloe dropped her designer bag next to her desk carelessly before glancing at them. Her eyes lit up as she spied the compact still resting under Adrien’s palm.

 _Adrihoney!”_ She squealed obnoxiously. “You’re a lifesaver! Can I borrow that? I left mine at home today, and I just _have_ to touch my face up!”

“Chloe, you know we’re not the same shade.” Adrien said casually. “I’m an Ivory five, and you’re clearly wearing a Buff two.”

Chloe pouted. “No I’m not. This shade is perfect.”

“Your hands are two shades lighter.” Adrien pointed out. “And you forgot to do your collarbone.”

“So? This is a _tan,_ Adrien.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed. “Are you really going to call me out like that?”

“I’m not calling you out.” Adrien replied. “I’m saving you embarrassment. If you put this powder on, it’s going to ruin your whole face, and your blush is going to be washed out _and_ too dark.”

As the bickering continued, Nino dropped his face onto the desk and groaned. It was worse than he thought. Adrien’s nonexistent Man Card was _gone._ Worse? He didn’t even seem to _care._


	2. Pastel Green (for the hand grenade on your neck)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really, why did Kim think it was a good idea to turn his back on Alix?

The second time it happened, Nino was better prepared - mentally at least. 

Being friends with Adrien meant a _lot o_ f adjustments in Nino’s thinking. Nino had grown up in a relatively conservative and traditional household, where gender roles were clearly defined for all that they remained unspoken. Boys played with trucks, girls played with dolls. Boys did not have long hair or pierced ears. As a man, his father was the breadwinner and the disciplinarian. His mother had a part-time job, but her husband was the head of the household.

That wasn’t to say that his parents were bigoted or racist; his mom wasn’t subservient or downtrodden. That’s simply how they _were._ They had no problems with alternative views or lifestyles, and if Nino had wanted to play with dolls they probably would have let him. They just didn’t encourage them in their household.

Nino had never considered himself to be overly conservative, but he’d never really been in a situation that openly _challenged_ the norms he’d grown up with either. Sure, Rose and Juleka were gay - it had been pretty obvious for a while now. He was cool with it. He didn’t particularly _care,_ but it had never impacted him directly either. And sure, Nathanael had long hair, but literally nobody batted an eye at that either.

But Adrien and his _makeup_ had somehow managed to take all of his carefully crafted paradigms and casually kick them about 30 degrees off-center. Not enough to destroy Nino’s view of the world and himself, but certainly enough to annihilate his equilibrium. 

In Nino’s world, men did not wear makeup (unless you were a cross-dresser, a transvestite, or a _model_ ). Sure, he considered that some guys probably applied concealer to blemishes, but it wasn’t something you did publicly or bragged about. It wasn’t a conversation starter with girls, or a bonding moment with your fellow guys. 

Except when it _was._

Kim refused to take the scarf off. Granted, it was March, but the temperature was hovering right at 10 degrees centigrade and it wasn’t even windy or anything. The scarf made literally no sense whatsoever. The teachers had rolled their eyes, but didn’t otherwise care. Mme. Mendeleiev, who was legendary in her strictness, let it slide because there was no lab today.

“No, really Kim, what the hell?” Alix snapped. 

It was a lull between classes, and Alix had apparently reached the end of her rope with the scarf. Nino didn’t really understand why Alix was so upset about the scarf, but then Nino had never really understood Alix anyway.

“Leave my scarf alone, Alix.” Kim retorted.

“ _Why_ are you wearing it?!” Alix demanded, gesturing wildly at the offensive garment. She was loud enough that they were drawing attention from the rest of the class.

“It’s a nice scarf.” Kim said, petting the scarf protectively. “I like it.”

“That thing is ugly as sin!” Alix protested. “What are you, color blind?”

Scowling, Kim turned his back on her, crossing his arms over his chest and sniffing haughtily. 

The scarf was pretty atrocious, Nino observed, popping his gum as he doodled a few more notes on the measure he’d scrawled in the margins of his notes. The beat wasn’t quite right, but…

“Just take it off already!” 

Despite the fact that Kim _should_ have been prepared for what happened next, he was caught painfully off guard when Alix reached out and yanked on the scarf. Kim flailed as he was jerked backwards, but the loosely tied scarf was no match for Alix.

Kim bellowed wordlessly as he slapped a hand over his neck and rounded on the girl. 

“What the _hell,_ Alix!” He screamed, face contorting in anger.

But the damage was already done.

“Is that...a hickey?” Alix mumbled, blinking as she stared at the bruise creeping out from beneath Kim’s fingers.

Kim’s face flushed red. “You’re such a jerk, Kubdel.”

It was an impressive hickey, Nino thought, if Kim’s hand couldn’t fully cover it.

“Yeah, well,” Alix was clearly thrown for a loop, and she appeared more stunned then anything else. “You’re an idiot for letting some girl chew on your neck like that.”

Kim’s lips pressed together angrily. “And you’re just jealous because nobody wants to neck with a tomboy like you.”

“This...is getting a little intense.” Alya murmured behind him. Nino nodded absently in agreement.

Alix jerked like she’d been slapped, the color draining from her face as her eyes widened in shock. Kim reached out and snatched the scarf from her unresisting fingers, his chair squeaking loudly as it slid across the floor. Draping the scarf loosely around his neck as he stood, he threw the still-stunned Alix a disdainful sneer as he stomped from the room.

The door slamming behind him was almost an afterthought.

There was a beat of silence before the class broke out into excited whispers. Marinette rose, making a beeline for Alix. Max hovered nervously, clearly unsure what he should do.

In front of him, Adrien exhaled sharply in a gesture that seemed one part resigned and two parts frustrated. Bending over, he unzipped his backpack and reached inside.

“What are you doing man?” Nino asked, frowning as Adrien withdrew a familiar black zippered pouch.

“Hopefully preventing the next akuma.” Adrien muttered, standing and making his way out of the room. Nino squinted after his friend as he exited, before hastily getting up to follow after him.

“Dude, I know you want to help and all,” Nino said, jogging to catch up to his friend who was storming down the hallway towards the boy’s bathrooms. “But I don’t think Kim wants to fix his mascara right now.”

Adrien rolled his eyes as he pushed the door open. “Oh my God Nino, stop.”

“Kim?” Adrien called tentatively, bending over slightly to look for feet under the stall doors. “You in here?”

“Leave me alone, Agreste.” Kim snapped, and Nino caught the flash of familiar running shoes yanking up and out of sight. “I’m cool. I just need to calm down.”

“Actually… I thought I might be able to help you out.” Adrien offered hesitantly. 

“Yeah?” Kim retorted. “You gonna go back and stop Alix from yanking off the scarf, or are you going to make her forgive me for yelling at her?”

“Why don’t you step out and see?” Adrien said, amusement tinging his tone. He rattled the bag in his hand teasingly. “I promise my solution is better than that monstrosity you’re wearing.”

There was a few moments of silence. Just as Nino was beginning to think that Kim was (a) going to ignore them or (b) come busting out of the stall in full akuma mode, he head a sigh. Running shoes hit the floor, and the stall door swung open to reveal an upset-looking Kim.

His eyes darted to the bag in Adrien’s hand and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s in the bag, Agreste?”

“A miracle.” Adrien deadpanned. “Want to see?”

Kim gave him a flat look, brow arching dubiously, but he stepped out of the stall and followed Adrien to the counter.

“Lock the door, would you Nino?” Adrien asked politely.

“What?” Kim twitched nervously. “Lock the door? Why?”

One perfectly shaped blonde brow quirked upwards. “You want more people to get a look at your neck?”

Kim hunched his shoulder and scowled. Reluctantly, Nino moved to the door and locked it.

Adrien had unzipped his little bag of horrors and had upended it onto the countertop, ignoring the way Kim’s eyes blew wide. Nino winced, hoping that Adrien’s kind but misguided gesture wouldn’t come back to bite him in the ass later.

“Wh- What are you going to do with those?” Kim stammered, looking at the small tubes and pots like Adrien had just dumped out a bag of venomous snakes.

“I’m going to show you how to cover that hickey.” Adrien said, selecting a tube and turning to Kim. 

The tube was two sided, with a mustardy yellow at one end and a pale green at the other. Nino thought it must be lipstick, but he’d _never_ seen lipstick that color. Not that he was an expert on lipstick or anything.

“You’re gonna paint me?” Kim regarded the tube apprehensively. 

“I’ve been doing this for ten years now. And I’ve had to cover marks like this before, so I _do_ know what I’m doing.” Adrien said patiently. “But I’ll tell you what: if you don’t like how it looks when I’m finished, you can wash it off. We’ll have a good laugh over it later.”

“Ahh…” Kim seemed about to refuse, then pursed his lips consideringly. “What the hell. I’ve worn halloween makeup before.”

“That’s the spirit.” Adrien’s lips quirked in amusement as he watched Kim reluctantly unwind the scarf and set it on the counter.

Nino’s head tilted in fascination: whoever she was, she certainly had been _enthusiastic._ “Holy shit, it looks like a hand grenade.” He blurted out.

Kim glared at him, but Adrien studied the mark and nodded. “It actually does. Are you sure you want to cover this up? It’s pretty badass.”

Kim barked out a laugh. “Yeah, well, if my mom sees my neck, the rest of me is gonna look like a hand grenade inspired bruise, too.”

“Can’t have that.” Nino moved closer as Adrien set the paint tube down, picking up a small tube and squirting a dab of it on his fingertip. He started to reach out to Kim’s neck, and paused. “Is it sore?”

“A little tender.” Kim grunted, eyeing Adrien’s finger.

“I’ll be careful.” Adrien said, rubbing the goop onto Kim’s bruised neck gently. “This is primer. It’s job is to make sure the rest of the makeup doesn’t rub off easily.”

“And that stuff?” Kim asked warily as Adrien picked up the yellow and green tube again.

“Will hide the bruise.” Adrien said. “Green is the opposite of red on the color wheel, and it helps cancel it out on skin. Good for pimples, but they have it mixed in with primer and stuff for people who have naturally pinkish skin.”

“Weird.” Kim said.

Nino, feeling pretty useless, reached into his pocket and withdrew his MP3 player. Scrolling through, he selected a mix and set it down on the countertop, lowering the volume so it wouldn’t echo so much.

“And yellow,” Adrien continued, opening the other end of the tube and pulling out the wand. “Is the opposite of the blues and purples on the color wheel, so it helps cancel it out.”

“Nath would love this.” Nino remarked. “It’s right up his alley.”

“It kind of is art.” Adrien shrugged. “I always thought it was more science, personally.”

Nino hopped up to sit on the counter to watch, bemused, as Adrien layered cosmetics onto Kim’s neck. Kim, the most loud-mouthed, obnoxious, manly-macho-man he knew, quietly let him. Adrien worked fairly quickly, but still somehow managed to look almost _soothing_ as he did. He chatted of inconsequential things: who had won the last football game, what Nathanel’s latest project might be - he’d had purple acrylics in his eyebrows and charcoal smeared across his cheek the other day after lunch and Rose was kind of confused by the mixed mediums. Whether the principal was going to use the budget money to resurface the track or update the auditorium. 

Nino bobbed his head along to the beat, helpfully picking up Adrien’s pouch and shoving the unused compacts and crap back into it. Adrien had helpfully nudged his selections out of the pile, shoving the extras out of the way so he could get what he needed more easily, so it wasn’t too hard. Not that Nino wanted to be picking up Adrien’s girly stuff, but at least he felt useful.

Adrien finished his work with a powder, absently handing the compact back to Nino as he stepped back to look at his work.

“The color is a little off,” Adrien said apologetically. “But we don’t have the same skin tone.”

“But it looks a lot better.” Nino added, hopping off the counter as Kim leaned forward to examine his neck. The mark was still there, but much fainter than it had been; you probably wouldn’t notice it unless you were looking for it. Which, admittedly, their classmates would be, but… Well, it was still loads better.

“Thanks, Agreste.” Kim said, smiling shyly at Adrien. “That scarf was way too hot, anyway.”

“Not a problem.” Adrien said easily as they moved towards the door. Nino glanced at his watch - they were only a few minutes late for class. Hopefully the girls had been able to calm Alix down.

The teacher had apparently heard of what went down, because he gave them the stink eye, but didn’t otherwise remark on their tardiness. 

The teacher was probably halfway through the lesson when something that had been niggling at the back of Nino’s mind clicked into place. 

“Dude.” He whispered, turning to Adrien. “When have you had to cover a hickey?”

“What?” Adrien shot him a confused look, then straightened up as the teacher glanced their way.

“In the bathroom.” Nino reached out and poked Adrien’s ribs. “You said you’ve had to cover marks like that before. What did you mean? When did you have a hickey?”

Adrien’s head turned slightly and he regarded his friend out of the corner of his eye. One eyebrow raised slowly and a mischievous smirk pulled at his lips. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Um, yes. Yes I would.” Nino hissed, poking him again. Adrien stared straight ahead, copying notes like the diligent little angel he _pretended_ to be.

“You _are_ gonna spill.” Nino warned him lowly.

“Sure, Nino.” Adrien sing-songed quietly, and the look he shot his friend was positively _devious._ “Whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently Adrien's Bag of Horrors is part of his Akuma Prevention strategy? Also, the marks Adrien is probably referencing are bruises, either from basketball, fencing, or doing superhero-related things. But where's the fun in telling Nino that?


End file.
